


First Burn

by bluebladenova



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander shuts up for once in his life, Burning, Confrontation, F/M, First Burn, Letter burning, Sad Alexander Hamilton, Sad Eliza Schuyler, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebladenova/pseuds/bluebladenova
Summary: I wrote a story based on the song First Burn. Alexander wakes up to Eliza burning his love letters.





	First Burn

Alexander suddenly opened his eyes, body locked in tension and ready to fight or run. He winced as he sat upright and let his coarse blanket slide off his torso. Couches truly did mess with one’s back, but at least he wasn’t sleeping at his desk.

He sat there, eyes sweeping around. At first, he couldn’t quite understand what was wrong. He blinked and realized that it was bright, much brighter than it should’ve been. He could see the moon, high in the sky through the window, so what was the orange flickering? 

    He stood up and looked behind the couch  into the kitchen. Through the kitchen window, he saw flames jumping up, saw sparks fly upwards. His heart seized in his chest.  _ The house is on fire! _ He rushed out the side door with a bucket, hoping he could put it out himself before the children woke- oh god, the children! Eliza! 

    He rounded the corner and screeched to a stop, wearing only breeches, clutching the bucket. His mouth fell open in surprise. 

    His wife sat, quite calmly, on the splintery log-bench in her nightgown with her wooden letterbox by her side. It was an anniversary present from Peggy. She was holding a letter into the fire. She withdrew it, gently turned it so the fire licked up all sides of the parchment. Her calm, immovable eyes met his perplexed ones. She returned to the task at hand and dropped the envelope into the little fire. 

    “You know… I used to think you were only mine,” She said as she reached for another letter. Alexander just watched, for once speechless, his heart sinking slowly. “My sister is furious with you… She said you were like Icarus, flying so high, doing so well… you got cocky, dear. You’re falling.” 

    Alexander gently put the bucket down. “I am still yours, my love. I made an unforgivable error, but I thought I was doing the right thing. If you had known her, you would have pitied her as I did.” He saw her hand, dangling an envelope, begin to shake, saw the shadows in her frown. “Maria was gentle, she was trying to care for her son.” He tried to take another step towards his wife. 

    “Stay exactly where you are, Alexander,” Eliza whispered, her voice shaking like her hand. “I am not myself right now. I will hurt you if you take one more step.” She laughed, short and insincere. “Or worse, I’ll forgive you.” 

     Alexander opened his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in a frown. Before he could make his case, Eliza cut him off. “You will not talk yourself back into my good graces.” When he did not move, she turned back to the fire and tossed in the envelope, reaching for yet another one. “You’re welcome to stay, provided you keep your mouth shut. I will not permit your writings to connive me into forgiving you. I will not let these… Memories soften me.” She watched the parchment curl and dissolve into ash. “I really thought I knew you… My husband, the brave, honorable war veteran, the immigrant who wrote his way off a hellish island, the founder of America’s financial system… And apparently, the adulterer who humiliates his wife.

    “You attached her letters to you in the pamphlet. You allowed the whole country to read about your exploits with her, in graphic detail. Oh yes, you proved that you were not a traitor… The only one you betrayed was me. And your children. I haven’t left the house in weeks, Alexander. They will mock me, laugh at me. After you published the pamphlet, Charles Lee’s wife offered to teach me some whore’s tricks to keep you satisfied and faithful. Mrs. Washington’s invitations for tea have stopped coming.” Her voice broke at the end. Alexander’s eyes filled with tears as he listened to the pain and suffering his wife had gone through. All because of him. 

    “I struggle to understand  _ why _ , Alexander. You proved to Aaron, Thomas and James that you had not done what they accused you of. I don’t understand… you have always protested too much. You scream when they whisper, you bring cannons to snowball fights.” She “hmphed” in amusement at the image. 

    “But I suppose I’m used to them gossiping about my husband.” True anger took over her delicate features as she threw in four letters at a time. “We all see how you look at Angelica.”

    Alexander felt like he had been punched in the gut. Tears were rolling freely down his face. “E- Eliza please-”

    “Shut up. I’m not stupid, you know. I see that you always have women hanging about you… to your credit, you never give them much attention… none that I know about, that is… But you’re a handsome, rich, charming man, Alexander, and they eat it up.” 

    She threw in the last of the letters and the fire expanded, swallowing up the paper, the memories, the love lost between them. Alexander let out a small, choked sound. “We always said we would keep our letters and let our children read them after we’re gone, let the future Americans know their history. Not anymore. That’s too much. They can’t have this. They won’t know how I cried myself to sleep every night, they won’t know how completely my husband has broken me.”

    She swung her head, her hair swishing loose like snakes, towards Alexander. “They will not know from me. But when the time comes, when they are older,  _ you  _ will explain to the children the pain, the embarrassment you put their mother through.” She abruptly rose, as furious and dangerous as the fire. She pointed viciously at him as she began to raise her voice at him, truly yell at him for the first time. “For a man so obsessed with your legacy, you fail to see what your legacy even is! It’s not your banks, it’s not your witty one-liners, it’s not your medals from the war! Your legacy is here!” She swept her arm towards the house. “I am your legacy! Philip, Little Angelica, John, James, Little Alexander! Your child who will be born into the thick of this hell! We are your legacy!” She had advanced upon him, nearly spitting in his face from the terrifying closeness as he shrank. 

    “When you are gone,  _ they _ will tell your story! Not your banks, not your legislation, not your courtroom victories! Your babies will tell your story!  _ I  _ will tell your story! Why can you not understand that you are more than your work?”

    Eliza sat down heavily, cradling her stomach. She sighed, looking down at her pregnant belly. “Our child will hear stories all his life of his adulterer father. William, our son, or Elizabeth, our daughter. You will have to tell them.”

    Alexander collapsed onto his knees and crawled to Eliza, burying his face in her gown, sobbing, shoulders shaking. “E- Eliza, forgive me, I do not deserve you, I do not deserve our wonderful, smart, beautiful children. Eliza, forgive this flawed, undeserving man. Please, I am begging you.” 

    Eliza remained silent, staring into the fire. When Alexander calmed, she left him sitting in the dust and went back to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 


End file.
